Renegade
by wInChEsTeR bRoS iNc
Summary: Previously known as 'Dealing with Dead Men'.   "She stopped as the driver stepped forward and patted her on the shoulder. The driver smiled and looked past her, and then suddenly, her eyes went black."  Season 7 for both shows. On hiatus!
1. Prologue

**Bonjour! This is my first story, and it is very badly written. :C _  
><em>**

**Sam and Dean have a little run-in with the BAU Team. **

**Warnings: Gore**

**Swearing**

**Anyways, enjoy! Renegade is a song by Styx.**

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><p><strong>Somewhere in the outskir<strong>**ts of Lawrence, Kansas**

**3:07 am **

"Leave me alone!" A girl cried and continued running down the road, trying to escape the invisible creature. Far behind her lay the mutilated body of her boyfriend and her boyfriend's once beautiful 2008 Toyota Corolla, which was now smeared in his blood.

She continued to run down the road, hoping that someone would show up and save her. She didn't even know what she was running from. She heard growling and barking from behind her, like a dog, but she didn't see anything. The sounds got closer and only intensified her fear. She continued to race down the road as fast as she could, but the thing chasing her wouldn't give up.

Finally, she saw a red car coming her way and began flailing her hands wildly, trying to get the driver's attention.

"Help! I need help!" She yelled from the top of her lungs.

The car came to an abrupt stop, and the driver stepped out of the vehicle. It was a woman with dark hair. The girl ran towards the car and once she was face to face with the driver, she said, "We need to leave! Now! There's this, this thing!" She stopped as the driver stepped forward and patted her on the shoulder. The driver smiled and looked past her and then suddenly, her eyes went black. The girl was frightened, but didn't move.

Suddenly, the growling returned, now louder than ever. The girl turned around and to her horror, there was a large dog with dark black fur and red eyes, its face was distorted in a vicious snarl. The girl screamed and tried to run past the driver, but the dog moved forward and jumped at the girl, tackling her. The girl continued to scream as the dog pinned her down and began tearing and clawing at her. Blood splattered the shiny car, blending in very well with the red paint. The driver wasn't disturbed even the slightest. In fact, she was smiling. She slowly walked forward towards the dog before bending down to pet it.

"Good boy."


	2. Delusional Physco: Dean Winchester

**Sorry that I took a while. I know this chapter is rushed and short, but it's the best I could do. Anyways, here ya are! Enjoy! R&R**

"Kelsey Tanner and her boyfriend Joshua Wheaton, were found mauled and mutilated down by the borders of Lawrence, Kansas about 2 days ago." J.J. said as she handed out folders to the rest of her team.

"Six days before the incident, another couple was found, killed in the same manner, and six days before that, another couple was found dead in their house, clawed open."

Derek flinched as he saw the horrific pictures on the large screen in front of him. The most recent victims were torn up so bad, he couldn't even tell their sex. Their faces nothing more than bloody shreds. He had seen some pretty screwed up shit before, but this definitely took the cake.

"I'm not sure if anybody is capable of this." Reid said, practically studying the screen.

"When did they go missing?" He asked.

J.J. shrugged and said, "That's the thing, their parents didn't even know that they went missing until about four hours after their deaths, when the state police called them. These kids weren't abducted or anything. They were basically killed on sight, though the girl's body was found about 2 miles away from the car."

Derek shook his head, disgusted. "When exactly did they die?"

J.J. sighed, then said, "Around 3 in the morning. What I don't get though, is how they were killed in less than half an hour. Kelsey was on the phone with her mom 10 minutes before she died. A woman named Janice found their bodies 20 minutes after the phone call had ended."

Derek was taken aback. The effort it would have taken just to stab some 30 times was a lot, but to rip a person apart until they were basically unidentifiable would have taken several minutes, maybe even an hour under the circumstances this case presented.

"Maybe it was an animal?" Derek suggested, though he knew better.

"Highly unlikely," Reid began. "The deaths are following a certain pattern, each six days apart, and, there isn't any animal in Kansas that can do this. Even if there were, animals _don't_ do this, no matter how annoyed, hungry or protective they are."

"Wow Reid, I actually understood you this time." Emily said, her face totally serious.

Derek let out a soft laugh, and even Hotch allowed himself a small smile.

J.J. however, seemed upset. "One more thing, there were fingerprints found on the window at the crime scene. They matched Dean Winchester's."

* * *

><p>Hotch frowned. Dean Winchester was dead. But then again, he had faked his death before. And it only made sense that if Dean was alive, so was Sam. Great.<p>

"J.J., are you sure? I mean they're supposed—"

"To be dead?" J.J. interrupted. She shrugged and said, "The fingerprints were a match."

"Son of a bitch," Derek cursed.

"If Dean Winchester is alive, then we have to get there as soon as we can." The rest of the team seemed to agree.

Hotchner had known Special Agent Victor Hendrickson, not well, but they worked on a case together years ago. He had known him to be a dedicated and proud man, and what had happened to him was absolutely horrible. Hotchner knew that Dean Winchester was a sadistic, delusional sociopath, but after discovering that he might still be alive, made him second-guess the man's intelligence. Of course Dean was smart, he managed to kill the FBI agent after him, and fake his own death. How many more people did Dean Winchester kill?

Hotchner sighed. "J.J., you and Morgan go interview the parents of the victims. The rest of you are coming with me."

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><p>Sam frowned as he watched his brother dig his face into a cheeseburger. Food fell out from his mouth and onto the tray. Sam looked away, disgusted. His appetite had gone long before he started eating, thanks to Dean. He shook his head, and flipped through a newspaper. Then, on the eighth page, Sam stopped. He found what he was looking for.<p>

**_Young Couple Found Mauled and Mutilated Down by Lawrence _**the headline read. He began reading the article. Sam immediately knew what it was.

"Hey Dean, I think I found something."

"A wead on the Lebiathanfs?" He mumbled through a mouthful.

"Yeah, a wead on the Lebiathanfs." Sam mocked. "Maybe, I don't know. But this was definitely either a Black Dog or a Hellhound attack."

Dean nodded slowly, then swallowed and said, "Where to then?"

"Lawrence, Kansas."

"Okay," Dean wiped his hand on a napkin before scrunching it up into a ball and throwing it away. "Let's go, Agent Scully."

"One more thing, the FBI are already assigned this case, so, uh…"

Dean's goofy smile was replaced with a frown. "Oh, well this is just friggin' awesome! Remember our last run in with the FBI? Yeah, they just loved us."

"News Reporters?" Sam suggested.

"You're a genius," Dean said sarcastically.

"I'm just trying to help." Sam said.

Dean's face suddenly went apologetic, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he got up and left the cheap fast food restaurant, Sam following.


	3. Devil's Shoestring

**I must warn you, good reader, that this chapter is absolutely horrible. I've got the worst case of Writer's Block, and writing this chapter was an absolute pain. I'm pretty sure the characters are OOC. I don't own Supernatural or Criminal Minds, but I do own Sam. HEHE. Now without further adieu.**

Emily frowned as she studied the strange yellow dust on the silver car's door handle. "Hey Hotch, I think I found something."

Hotchner was a few feet away, examining a strange satanic symbol drawn in blood on the side of the road. He stared at the symbol for a couple of more seconds before walking over towards Emily.

She moved aside and motioned at the door handle. He looked at her for a second, and then fixed his eyes on the door handle. The entire door handle was covered in what looked like powdered sulfur. Hotchner reached into his pocket, got out his cell phone and he began dialing a number.

"_The Office of Unmitigated Superiority, speak to me."_

"Garcia, I need you to send me Dean Winchester's file."

"_Dean Winchester, as in FBI's most wanted Dean Winchester?"_

"Yes."

"_Done and done, but why do you need it, Sir? I thought he was dead."_

"So did I."

"_Wait, do you mean that that sicko is still alive?"_

"It's a possibility. Right now we aren't sure."

_"So if they are alive…"_

"They might be our unsubs."

"_Huh. That just made my day."_

Hotchner smiled and then hung up. "Well?" Emily asked.

"Sulfur, I think."

"You know," Reid said, who was now standing beside Emily, "There's this say that when demons or ghosts have used some sort of power, they leave behind a trace of sulfur. Considering the fact that Dean Winchester believed that by killing people, he was getting rid of the demons inside of them, I think that it is likely Dean Winchester was behind this."

"So you're saying that he placed the sulfur here?"

Reid perched his lips and furrowed his brows. "Subconsciously maybe, I doubt he even realised that he did it.

"Hey, um… do you think that Sam Winchester is alive as well?" Reid asked.

"If Dean Winchester is alive, then chances are so is Sam." Emily replied.

* * *

><p>"Who did you say you two were?" Rosalyn, a middle aged woman with a grey-brown bun asked.<p>

"I'm Buck Dharma," Dean said. He looked at Sam for a moment and then said, "And he's Eric Bloom."

The lady shook her head and used her sleeve to wipe away the tears gathering in her eyes.

"We went to college with Kelsey, remember?" Dean repeated for the third time today. Man this lady had horrible memory.

"You guys are too old," she replied with a frown.

"Kelsey was 26, right?" The lady nodded. "Believe it or not, were both only 29." He wasn't lying completely, Sam _was_ almost 29. Dean was four years older.

Rosalyn sniffed and then said, "When they found her, they didn't even know if she was a girl! The only reason they knew who she was, was because of her I.D." Rosalyn sniffed once more, and then began sobbing. Sam reached forward and touched her on the shoulder.

"I'm so sorry. Really, I am."

Dean nodded slowly. A few things popped into his mind. Ghost, ghoul, leviathan. It could've been a demon, but as sick and twisted as they were, they weren't that violent. He exchanged a thoughtful glance with Sam, and then asked, "Do you mind if we go in her room?" The lady looked at them for moment before burying her hands in her head. She nodded and then said, "Please, don't touch anything."

Sam looked at her, despite the fact she wasn't looking at him, his eyes sincere, and said, "Don't worry. We won't."

They both got up at the same time and then headed into Kelsey's room. The walls were painted beige, and there were a few posters of some hippie bands on a wall. The bed was neatly made, and the room was very tidy. Dean walked over towards her closet and opened it. Her clothes were ironed and neatly hung up on the hangers, despite the fact she hadn't lived here since she left for college. Dean began to close the door when something caught his eye. On the closet's top shelf was a strange plant. Dean reached up and grabbed it. In his hands were Devil's Shoestrings. They were good for one thing and one thing only, warding off Hellhounds.


	4. Eaten

**Well, I updated sooner than expected, but the chapter's short. Oh, and spoiler, one of the Winchesters will be captured and interrogated by Morgan in an upcoming chapter. Well, it's not amazing, but here it is. Enjoy!**

"Sam, you were right, it's definitely a Hellhound." Dean said as he waved the Devil's Shoestring at Sam.

"Great, because if they are Hellhound attacks, there's probably nothing we can do to stop them." Sam sighed, obviously frustrated.

"Yeah, but 3 attacks in 18 days? Doesn't that strike you as odd?"

Sam shrugged. "Maybe, I guess."

"No seriously, all of them were couples, all were killed at around the same time. And she obviously knew it was coming," Dean said and gestured at the plant.

"So? She made a deal."

"Yeah, but you said that they were killed at around 3 in the morning. Right?"

Sam nodded. "Your deal didn't come due until 12."

"Exactly!" Dean responded.

"So what then? The Hellhound decided to take an extra three-hour vacation?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know, man. But this is definitely our kind of gig."

* * *

><p>"You said that two of Kelsey's friends dropped by?" Morgan asked Rosalyn.<p>

"Yes, they were very nice young men, especially the one with the longer hair. A little odd though."

J.J. frowned and looked at her. "How so?"

Rosalyn sniffed and then scratched her nose. "They kept asking me these weird questions, like 'Did Kelsey act a bit strange before she died?' or, 'Did Kelsey mention anyone that may have made her uneasy?'" Rosalyn sniffed again and then looked down at the floor.

Morgan raised his head a little and said calmly, "Can you tell us what they looked like?"

She nodded and then looked directly at Morgan. "One had light brown hair of medium length. He was very tall. The other had short spiky-ish hair, and it was a darker brown."

"Is there anything else you can tell us about them?" J.J. asked.

"They were both very fit. They also wore lots of layers, and their clothes looked very worn in… but in a good way?" She nodded and then bit her lip. "Oh! And they had a very nice car! Not those icky new ones, but the older ones. It was black and shiny."

"Did they tell you their names?" J.J. asked.

Rosalyn nodded. "Yes, the shorter one said that his name was Buck Dharma or something. The other one's name was, um… Eric?" She closed her eyes and nodded. "Yes, it was Eric. Eric Bloom."

J.J. paused and tried to recall where he heard those names before.

"Blue Oyster Cult." Morgan said.

That was it! Buck Dharma was the lead guitarist of BOC, and Eric Bloom was the lead vocalist.

"I didn't know you were a fan." J.J. said.

"Are you kidding me?" Morgan replied.

Rosalyn looked confused. "Who? What are you talking about?"

"Nothing." Morgan said. He wasn't about to tell her that those two were responsible for her daughter's murder.

"Ma'am, if those two ever drop by again, just don't answer the door and call me." Derek said, as he handed her a card. "There are also some precautions I'd like you to take."

"Why?" Rosalyn's face grew worried. "Did they do something to my Kelsey? I thought her death was an accident! It was an animal attack!"

J.J. touched the older woman's shoulder and tried to calm her down. Just when she seemed fine, she burst out sobbing and held her face in her hands. J.J. escorted her to the couch, where she tried to calm Rosalyn. Morgan just stared, without saying a word. Sam and Dean Winchester were some sick sons of bitches.

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><p>"Oh my god." Garcia said as looked at the screen in front of her. She immediately called Hotchner.<p>

"_Yes, Garcia, did you send me their files yet?"_

"No," Garcia said, "but I did find something else. A couple of weeks ago, Sam and Dean resurfaced and began this huge massacre-like thingy! They hit a couple of states, and each time they left a big trail of blood!"

Hotchner was silent for a moment, and then said, _"How come I didn't hear of this before?"_

"None of us did, Sir. A little to preoccupied with the cases, I guess? Oh, and uh, they faked their deaths, _again._"

Hotchner mumbled something on the other line, and then said, _"Are you sure they're not really dead?" _

"Their bodies were supposedly destroyed."

"_Supposedly?"_

Garcia nodded; despite the fact Hotchner couldn't see her. "Yeah, their bodies are missing and, after the supposed deaths, everyone from the police station either went missing or died, including an officer and his daughter. They were killed, and a bunch of their insides were missing, as in, eaten."

"_Eaten?"_

"I don't know. Cannibalism?"

"_Is there anything else you can tell me?"_

"No, Sir, but I just send you a video from the surveillance camera at the bank they hit."

The line went silent, and a few moments later, Hotchner said, _"Good job, Garcia. Keep it up,"_ before he hung up.

Garcia, however, wasn't aware of this and continued to talk. "Thank-you, Sir. I was just wondering if—" She stopped as she heard a beeping sound coming from the phone. He hung up. Great.


	5. Luststruck Whores

**Well, I wasn't originally supposed to write this chapter, but I decided to give you guys a little insight about why the murders, or sacrifices are happening. I'll get into detail about this _master _later on, and why Dean was framed for the murders, but for now, you got this. Also, I'm sorry that it's so short. I wrote it in like half an hour.**

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><p><strong>3:07 am<strong>

**The Jones' Resident**

"Would you get that, Dear," Mrs. Jones, an elderly lady said to her husband. Her husband just grumbled, and continued to read the newspaper and sip at his coffee. The doorbell rang again. "George, get the door."

He sighed exasperatedly and placed his coffee and newspaper on the coffee table in front of him before getting up to open the door. Standing in front of the doorway was a young attractive brunette.

"Yes?" he said rather irritably.

The woman just smiled politely and said, "Oh, am I going to enjoy this." Suddenly, George felt a sharp pain in his stomach and he heard his wife scream.

He looked down and saw the woman's hand in his stomach, the blood staining her black leather jacket. The pain grew more intense as the woman slowly worked her way up to his chest, and then all of a sudden yanked her hand out, his heart in her hand. George didn't know how, but he could still see the woman, a twisted smile on her face. He could hear his wife screaming, calling his name desperately. He could smell his own blood. He could still feel the agonizing pain in his abdomen.

"You're not dead because I dont want you dead. Not yet," the young woman said, her voice dripping with joy and sinister. She placed a hand on his ruined chest, and gave him a soft push. It was enough force though, to make George fall back and suddenly gasping for air.

The woman walked into his home and then disappeared from his view. He couldn't move, and was forced to stare at the ceiling helplessly as his wife began screaming in terror. There was a wet crunch and then his wife stopped screaming.

He closed his eyes tightly and began crying, every sob sending horrible pain through his body. He heard the woman walking over towards him, and soon, she was looming over him, enjoying his helplessness.

"By the way, the name's Meg."

He used every last bit of his strength left to say one word. "Why?"

"Because," she said, grinning, "My ass is more important than yours. Nice couch by the way."

She placed the heel of her boot on his forehead, and then pushed his head to the left with incredible force. George's neck snapped, and then his world went blank.

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><p>Meg closed her eyes and went down on both knees, her hands resting on the altar she just made. She tried to remember the incantation that was needed to be said in order to call upon her master. Not her master, her tool. She had spoken to it once before, and when it was confirmed that it could help, Meg made it her very goal to bind it, or at least have it help her, so that she could get what she wanted.<p>

"O Potens, te invoco et dolore doni. Surgite, et audirentur." She placed the bowl full of blood on the altar on top of the paper, and then set the paper on fire.

At first, nothing happened, but then the flames grew higher, and a demonic voice that only her and her brethren could understand began speaking. It gave her direct orders, and once she agreed to the terms, stopped the contact. She frowned, frustrated. The terms were that it would help her if she fed it blood of a being shared, or as she called it, lust-struck whores, every 6 days. She sighed, annoyed with the fact that she was somebody else's bitch. _Just a few more times, _she thought to herself, _than it will be all mine._

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><p><strong><em>O Potens, te invoco et dolore doni. Surgite, et audirentur.<em> - Oh, Mighty One, I call upon thee and offer you a gift. Rise, and be heard. **

**(I know it sucks, but give me some credit. I actually google translated this lame spell-like thing into latin for you guys.)**


	6. Buckets of Crazy

**My apologies for taking forever to update. In truth, I'm not very motivated and I did this entire chapter in one day. I'm sorry if any characters are OOC. Also, do not expect me to update until at least Monday because I need to know if Bobby lives in order to write it from Sam's POV. David Rossi is not in this story because he is taking a vacay, and I find his character very hard to do. Anyways, enjoy!**

Dean growled impatiently, annoyed at the fact that it was taking his brother _forever _just to grab some food. From the distance, he heard police sirens rapidly approaching. He turned on the T.V. and then sat down on the filthy large brown chair that was smoldered with dust and who knows what else. He began channel surfing when he saw something on the news network that might help them on their hunt.

"—_made altar in the basement of the most recent crime scene."_ A female news reporter with dark skin and hair said, bobbing her head with every single word she spoke. _"Neighbours of the victims claimed that they heard screaming coming from the house moments before the murder, and one person even claims that he heard a demonic voice coming from the basement. What's most disturbing though, is that the murderers are said to have been none other than Dean Winchester and presumably, his brother Sam, who were said to have been dead, and faked their deaths at least twice now." _Pictures of Sam and Dean's mug shots were shown on the screen, blocking out the almost everything else asides from the headline.

Dean sucked in his breath and turned off the T.V., his heart felt like it dropped into his stomach. "No," he whispered. "No, no!" He fell back into the chair, his arms dangling off the armrests. "Come on!" he bellowed almost angrily. Just then, he thought of Sam. If Sam wasn't caught already, than he was almost certainly spotted and reported. Dean raced for his cellphone and quickly began dialing Sam's number. After a couple of rings, Sam picked up.

"_Yeah, what's up?"_

"Sam, where are you?"

"_On my way back. Why, what's wrong?"_

"No, don't come back! You need to leave, now! Apparently, the Harpe Brothers came back from the dead, and now were on the list again!"

"_FBI's most wanted?"_

"No, Luna's Hot Spot V.I.P. list. Of course the FBI's most wanted list! Toss out your phone, lose our plate and get the hell away from here!"

"_Wait, what about you?"_

"I'll try to catch up as fast as I can." Dean didn't wait for a response, but instead just hung up. He smashed his phone and tossed it in the garbage. Then, he reached for his duffel bag and stuffed all of his belongings in it before heading for the door.

From the other side of the door, an unfamiliar voice said, "Dean Winchester, this is the FBI! Open up!"

"Shit!" He cursed under his breath. He moved away from the door, and slowly began backing up towards his bed.

A few moments later, the door flung open. In its place was an African-American man wearing a bulletproof vest that read 'FBI', and the S.W.A.T. team, along with a few more FBI agents.

"Drop the bag and put your hands up where I can see them!" The man demanded.

"Wow, all this for me? You guys, you shouldn't have." Dean said, not about to give up his coy demeanor.

"Put your hands up where I can see them! _Now!" _

Dean reluctantly dropped his duffel bag and placed his hands in the air. The man quickly emerged, still pointing his gun at Dean. He moved behind Dean, then roughly grabbed his hands and forced them behind his back and handcuffed him.

"Boy, you are one sick S.O.B." The man hissed in his ear before pushing him towards the door.

* * *

><p>Hotchner stared at the young man in the interrogation room, making no attempt to try to approach him. He turned around and began walking towards the deputy. "How did the press find out that the unsubs were the Winchesters?"<p>

The deputy cocked an eyebrow at Hotch. "Unsubs?"

"Just answer the question," Hotchner said, irritated.

"The sheriff told 'em," he replied, slightly taken aback by Hotchner's growing intolerance.

"You do realise that what you did may have cost us our chances of finding them?"

"But you already _did_ find 'em." The deputy replied.

"We found Dean because of his alias, and we did not find Sam. Thanks to that little report of yours, he's probably going to drop off the grid and not be seen again for the next few months, maybe even years."

"Don't look at me! The sheriff is the one that did it!"

Hotchner glared at him, before turning around and walking back towards the interrogation room. He stood beside Emily, who was watching Dean Winchester attentively.

"I don't think that Sam would just drop off the grid like that." She said. "Hendrickson stated in their file, that they are both dangerously co-dependant." Emily stated flatly, not bothering to look up at Hotch.

"Is he talking?" Hotchner asked.

Emily shook her head. "Morgan was at him for about 20 minutes, and asides from his wise-ass remarks, we've got nothing."

Hotchner nodded and then said, "See if you can try to get him to talk. Talk about him and try to get him to open up about himself."

Emily nodded and then opened the door and stepped inside the interrogation room.

* * *

><p>Dean smiled as he saw a young attractive brunette step inside the interrogation room.<p>

"Hi, I'm special agent Emily Prentiss." The lady said.

"You know, you're not the only FBI agent I've met, but you are by far the prettiest."

Emily smiled and then sat down in the empty chair on the opposite side of the table.

"I take it you're not the bad cop?" Dean said with a smirk.

She smiled again and shook her head. "You've already met him. Morgan."

Dean nodded slowly. "Ah yes. He was loads of fun."

"Can I offer you something? Coffee maybe?"

Dean shook his head. He knew this game. She was send here to try to get him to open up, to trust her. And then she would try to convince him he was bat-shit crazy in the nicest way possible and try to get him to sell out Sam.

"Why don't we just get to the point?" He said.

Emily looked genuinely confused. "What're you talking about?"

Dean shrugged. "You know, the part where you pretend you actually give two shits about me so that I will suddenly grow the conscience you don't think I have and then I'll tell you were Sam is."

Emily looked at him, slightly surprised.

Dean leaned forward. "I'm not who you think I am. I don't kill people for kicks. I think it is just as sick and delusional as you think it is. More so, even. My brother and I fight monsters, in the actual sense. I know you and everyone else think that we are buckets of crazy, but there are also things about our case that strikes you as odd, isn't there?

"Like how I managed to fake my death in St. Louis. There was even a body. Shapeshifter. Oh, and how Sam and I managed to fake our deaths again. Victor let us go the moment he realised that we were telling the truth. Then Lilith came along and killed everyone in the station. Oh, and let's not forget a few weeks ago. Leviathans pretending to be us. We sprayed them with Borax though, and we even managed to chop off their heads."

Emily just stared at him.

"I see," she said. "Why don't you tell me more about these monsters?"

Dean sighed and fell back into his chair. "Oh sweet lord, now you're playing my psychiatrist."


End file.
